Cape Clear Island is a thriving hub of community spirit

Cape Clear Island is snapshot as clear as day of pure island living writes Cían Byrne

Sat, 11 Jul, 2026 - 01:00

Cian Byrne

Cresting hills give way to wide open ocean views and stonewalled fields pop with pockets of purple lavender on Oileán Chléire (Cape Clear Island).

Birdsong filters through the air, only interrupted by the whirring of the minivan’s electric motor as we drive up the steep hills.

“You don’t mind if we make a quick stop, do you?” asks the tour guide Mike Lynch, who, like many residents, doesn’t just have the one job — he’s also the local bus driver.

“The chiropodist is on the island today and the lady living here needs a lift to her appointment.”

We pull into a farmyard, the minivan door slides open and a cheery farmer hobbles in, “that’s magic, Mike”, she says. Time, tide, and toe procedures wait for no man.

Getting to West Cork is always a journey and it’s always a journey that’s worth it. Oileán Chléire lies 13km off the coast of Ireland, is roughly the same size as Phoenix Park and around 110 people call it home, making it the southernmost inhabited island of Ireland. The population fluctuates with the seasons as some leave during the winter months, but there’s a strong core of permanent residents, many who speak Irish daily.

Ferry crossings regularly run from Schull and Baltimore, but I arrive in Baltimore just before sunset and long after the last ferry of the day.

The seaside village, once sacked by Algerian pirates in 1631, is buzzing with its first party of the summer, the Wooden Boat Festival, and people fill the square by the pier. It’s a lively contrast to what I expect will be a slower pace on the island.

After a long drive, I’m happy to make a pit stop on the Wild Atlantic Way in Baltimore for the night, mainly so I have an excuse to eat at Baba’de: The smaller, more casual little sister of the multi-Michelin-starred Dede restaurant around the corner. Some tables are here to celebrate, others have popped in for a drink after work, giving the restaurant an invitingly informal atmosphere that carries over to the menu. Chef Ahmet Dede has done away with the rigid formula of starter, main, and dessert; instead, you pick the plates that take your fancy and the server helps you organise the order in which they come out.

Some are best served alongside something else, some are best shared, and some are enough by themselves.

The menu is Turkish and focuses on homely dishes made with Irish produce and Chef Dede’s incredible skill elevating simple ingredients and recipes into something mesmerising. Textures and flavour pairings are what stand out, particularly the West Cork beef köfte and the seaweed margarita, which is somehow smoky yet refreshing.

Making my way to my room in the nearby Waterfront Hotel afterwards, I take a seat on the sofa by the window, looking out over the pier, to the Baltimore Beacon and beyond to tomorrow’s travels to Oileán Chléire.

Sailing past Baltimore Beacon and Sherkin Island, the ferry then turns for open ocean and points its bow in the direction of Oileán Chléire. North Harbour is wrapped by steep, rocky hills, only opening with a small gap that allows ships to land at the island. Séamus Ó Drisceoil is waiting for me when I arrive.

He’s a popular figure in the community who is involved, or has been involved, with the local co-op, Cape Clear Distillery, Cape Clear Ferries, events, tourism, and plenty more.

Any preconception I had of Oileán Chléire being a sleepy little place with not much going on was quickly proved wrong, as Séamus begins to rattle through all the projects and developments happening at the moment.

The first ferry of the morning has brought a team of builders who get to work on Inis, the new visitor attraction opening in 2027 that highlights the local history, culture, and maritime heritage. In the next building over, the potter Simon Kidd has his studio and hosts pottery retreats where local clay, stone, and ash are used to create pieces truly of the island.

Old Lighthouse Ruins and Signal Tower on Cape Clear Island

Oileán Chléire is famous in the birdwatching world and beside the studio is Ireland’s only accredited bird observatory. Birdwatchers come in September to see migrating seabirds like shearwaters, skuas, and storm petrels, and more arrive in October with the hope of seeing rare birds that have been blown off course while flying south for the winter.

“I was meant to be here,” says Séamus, a proud Ó Drisceoil (O’Driscoll), a family with deep historical roots in this part of Ireland. His parents left the area for Dublin when he was born, but he felt the island calling to him and returned over 30 years ago and has been involved in the community ever since.

The roads are narrow and thick hedges make them even narrower, leaving just enough room for Séamus’ car to squeeze through as we make our way up over the hills around North Harbour and sweep around the serene and sheltered Roaringwater Bay. He points out a house that he’s renovating with the hopes of tempting young families to move here.

The road turns up again as we go inland and we soon arrive at Mara Farm. Fiona MacLachlan farms the land, where she breeds native cattle, ponies, and pigs, as well as keeping some guinea fowl around for a bit of good luck. Like Séamus, Fiona is a busy islander. She has a handful of WWOOFers (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) from France and Germany who help out on the farm and in the cafe when it opens during the summer. They work for a few hours a day in return for bed and board, along with the chance to pick up a cúpla focal during their stay.

There are five walking trails here and one runs through Fiona’s land and she’s refreshingly quite happy to allow it as long as the walkers don’t interfere with another of her interests: Stone walls.

These structures have been part of the Irish landscape since the Neolithic period and there are some wonderful examples of the art of dry stone walling found on Oileán Chléire. The walls are built and maintained by locals who have inherited the craft and they’re helped by people who Séamus calls ‘The Wallers’.

He’s referring to ‘Building Walls — Breaking Walls’, yet another project happening on the island where people come for a week to learn the craft and work alongside people from outside their community.

It’s impossible not to be impressed by the efforts of the community on Oileán Chléire. There’s more initiative, ambition and vision here than in towns with a hundred times its population and it feels like it stems from a deep connection with the island.